


Mythos: Syrene

by JadeTheThief



Category: Dice Funk Podcast D&D Campaign
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-07 00:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18862435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeTheThief/pseuds/JadeTheThief
Summary: Based on my character for the ADD 3 campaign (see: thefunkyshack.boards.net), which was loosely based in the Dice Funk universe post-season 1.





	Mythos: Syrene

  Syrene drew up her brown cloak, pulling the hood over her long elvish ears.  The streets were dark and quiet, dirt roads occupied only by those unlucky enough not to get a room for the night.  Making her way to an inn, the elf opened the door lightly, putting on a smile as she entered.

    "Hi there!" she approached the bar, greeting the bartender cheerfully.  "I don't suppose you could point out the owner here for me, could you?"

    "That'd be me," the bartender grunted, setting down the glass he was cleaning.

    "Lovely!" Syrene beamed, taking a seat and resting her elbows on the table.  "I'm an entertainer, you see."  She drew back her hood, revealing her tanned elvish face, marked by two sets of red scratches drawn under her eyes.  Sliding a hand behind her neck, she lifted her long brown hair from the cloak, allowing it to cascade down to her shoulder blades.  On her forehead sat a brilliant yellow gem, held in place by a circlet of silver chains.  "A dancer.  I'm very good."

    "I'm sure."  The bartender raised an eyebrow.  "I'm sorry, miss, but I really can't afford to hire--"

    "Oh, it's no trouble."  Syrene smiled, raising a hand to stop him.  "The first performance is on the house.  Just something to... whet the appetite, so to speak."

    "I, umm..." he glanced at the pair of bards strumming guitars in the corner, then back to the girl.  "I suppose."

    "You won't regret it."  She winked, doffing her cloak and laying it over her forearm.  Her attire underneath was sensible, yet ornate.  A sleeveless top, encased by a tightly laced bodice.  A long skirt, parted at the legs to allow for movement.  A bracelet on one arm, a tribal tattoo on the other.  "I don't suppose you have a changing room?"  She nodded at a door near the strumming bards.

    "Ah, yes, it's through there."  He frowned.  "What kind of dance do you do?"

    "Eastern."  She grinned, rising from her stool with a sway in her hips.  "Bellydance."  

    The man's face reddened slightly and she laughed, strolling back to the changing room.

\---

    Unlacing her bodice, she stripped off her top and set it down on a chair, adjusting the chain straps on her ornate bra.  Her lips pursed as she tugged at the center clasp, trying to loosen a kink.  "Damn thing never did stay on right..."

    "Don't forget why you're here..." a soft, deep, yet melodious voice spoke in her mind.

    "I haven't."  She huffed, tugging it into place and moving on to her skirt.  "Be patient, master.  You know how I enjoy the game."

    The voice chuckled.  "Of course.  Quite a feast out there tonight."

    "Mm."  Syrene smirked, flattening out the panels of her flowing purple skirt flaps.  "You better share this time, master."

    "Of course, my dear, of course."  The voice laughed.  "Last time was an accident.  I was very hungry, you see."

    She rolled her eyes.  "You're always hungry."  Running a hand over the sun tattoo etched into her belly, she took a deep breath and stood, centering herself.  "Talk to you in a few, master."

\---

    Bursting through the door, she raised a hand over her head, creating a shower of sparks from her fingertips while simultaneously dimming all the lights in the room.  A hushed silence fell over the crowd as she swayed her hips, skin shimmering with a soft golden glow.  She winked at the bards, gesturing with her finger and shooting a message into their minds:  "Play something sensual."

    Slightly flustered, the bards resumed strumming, playing a soft, dreamy tune.  Syrene's hips swayed softly to the melody, but she closed her eyes and shook her head, casting a glare back at the bards and pointing again.  "No.  Faster.  Exciting!  Sexy!"

    They gulped, picking up the pace.  Grinning, Syrene returned her attention to the crowd, hips swinging as her arms drew graceful patterns in the air.  Her soft radiance grew steadily as she danced, each each rotation of her chest or shimmy of her hips deepening her inner glow.  She could feel the awe and desire building as the fifty minds in the room fell under her sway, enchanted by her presence.  Her eyes flashed solid white, but she drew back, restoring the illusion of green irises.  Not yet... Savor it.

    Twirling on the balls of her feet, she spun to face one of the patrons, approaching him with hungry eyes.  The man smiled, too awestruck to speak, as she slid onto his lap, pressing her lips to his in a deep kiss.  Eager and aroused, the man reached out to cup her thigh, but his hand recoiled at the touch, coming away burned.  He tried to scream, but was silenced by her continued kiss.  His eyes grew wide as she bit through his tongue, spitting it back into his mouth.  Laughing shrilly, she rose up, shoving him so that he toppled onto the floor.

    Extending an arm toward the exit door, she twisted her fingers, snapping the lock into place and breaking the mechanism.  Her eyes shifted to solid white as her illusion fell away, her body radiating brightly with golden energy.  "Ready, master?" she laughed.

    A tall man leapt from his table, lunging at her.  Spinning quickly, she caught him by the throat and drew out her dagger in one swift motion, impaling him in the gut.  "Your sacrifice is appreciated."  She smiled, kissing him as his skin grew pale, body losing its strength.  Tossing his corpse carelessly aside, she turned.  "Next?"

    Some fought back.  Some tried to flee.  One by one, she drained them, leaving lifeless husks.  The bartender was last, cowering behind the bar.  "Why are you doing this!?" he whimpered as she strode toward him, dagger in hand, nearly naked torso splattered with blood.

    She shrugged.  "Girl's gotta eat."  Impaling him through the chest, she gripped the exposed blade in her bare fingers and held the hilt close to her sun tattoo, sighing with satisfaction as his life essence drained into her.  The bartender slumped, a look of betrayed shock etched onto his face.

    Pulling the blade out, she wiped it off on his shirt and slipped it back into her leg holster.  "Had your fill, master?"

    "Mm.  I did," the voice replied warmly.  "You had one too, I see."

    "My payment, as always."  She grinned, collecting her clothes and cloak.  Casting one last glance over the room, she tapped a finger to the gem on her headpiece, focusing until it glowed bright yellow and teleported her from sight.


End file.
